


Don't Forget

by Rachel3003



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2019-07-10 05:08:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15942413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachel3003/pseuds/Rachel3003
Summary: She still couldn't understand how it happened. The mission had gone without a hitch, the terrorists were apprehended and the bombs secured. But suddenly one of the supposed hostages had jumped and all hell had broken loose. A suicide bomber, they told her. And the shockwave had sent him crashing against a wall. Steve. Her partner. Her husband. AVENGERS BELONGS TO MARVEL STUDIOS.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Post Infinity Wars II, for like, a year or so. It's coming somewhere in 2019, this is set in May/June 2020.

She still couldn't understand how it happened. The mission had gone without a hitch, the terrorists were apprehended and the bombs secured. But suddenly one of the supposed hostages had jumped and all hell had broken loose. A suicide bomber, they told her. And the shockwave had sent him crashing against a wall. It had crumbled over him and it had taken the team twelve minutes and forty two seconds to get him out of the rubble. Too long, too  _fucking_  long.

A broken leg, a dislocated shoulder, two broken ribs, a cut on his forehead and a considerably deep gash on his side. And a few concussion; four, the last time she asked. The doctors still didn't know how severe and wouldn't until he woke up.

Steve. Her partner. Her best friend. Her  _husband_. The f–

He's laid in a hospital bed, a double because they couldn't stretch him comfortably in a small one. And he looks small, if that's even possible. He's pale, with circles under his eyes and covered in bandages. The open wounds will be healed in a day, the broken bones in four. The concussions... is still to be determined.

She's seated in a chair at his bedside, his hand cradled gently between hers. It's so big, so strong yet so gentle and smooth at the same time. She raises it to her lips and kisses his knuckles, just over his ring –the one she had put back on him after the surgery to reset his ribs– and keeps it against her mouth, closing her eyes and gripping his fingers a bit tighter.

"Natasha..." she looks up and to the door, where Bucky stands with a tired look on his face. "You should be resting. You know he wouldn't like for you to stress yourself." He walks to her and puts a comforting hand on her shoulder. She takes a deep, trembling breath and closes her eyes again, a tear escaping and rolling down her cheek to fall onto the bed sheets. He grabs her arms and helps her stand. "C'mon, lets get you to bed. All this worrying isn't good for any of you."

She lets him steer her out of the room and into the elevator. She presses her hand over the scan and tells ECHO to take them to her and Steve's wing. She lets Bucky support her and is unashamed of the tears that fall silently down her face, her eyes lost somewhere in her reflection. When the doors open he guides her across the living room towards the hall and to the final door, her room.  _Their_  room, her and Steve's. She shakes Bucky's hold at that point and lays herself on the bed, on Steve's side of it, and curls into herself as much as she can at the same time that she buries her face into his pillow.

"He'll be ok, Natasha. He's Steve, he'll heal and will be fretting over you again in no time." He says, trying to lighten the mood but the woman doesn't budge.

"You heard the doctors, Bucky: his body might heal, but they don't know if his brain will. Four concussions and at least one of them severe. A normal human would be dead or at least in a vegetative state. They don't know how Steve will fair." Bucky sighs and rubs his hands over his face in frustration. She's just like Steve, so fucking stubborn!

"You have to stop being so pessimistic..." she doesn't move, and he groans. "Natasha!"

"I'm being realistic. I have to accept the fact that there's a possibility, a considerably big possibility, that I won't get my husband back." Her voice is quiet, defeated. "Please leave me alone, I want to sleep."

Bucky wants to protest but knows it won't make a difference. Even in her condition, she's still able to kick ass. With a murmured 'goodnight' he leaves the room and then the wing. He enters the main building, finding Thor, Clint and Wanda there, nursing mugs of coffee. Wanda is the first that notices him and gives him a strained smile.

"How is she?" She asks and he sighs, plopping down on the seat across from her and laying his head over his crossed arms.

"A wreck. She just laid on his side of the bed and curled into a ball. Didn't even have the chance to suggest a light meal or a change of clothes before she kicked me out." Clint chuckles mirthlessly and sips his coffee.

"That's Natasha for you, pal." He stares into his mug before raising his eyes and looking at everyone in the table. "I've only seen her like this once, guys: when we met, and she asked me to kill her." Wanda sucks in a breath and Thor flinches but stays silent.

* * *

_"Mrs. Rogers,"_  Natasha grumbles, curling harder over her stomach.  _"Mrs. Rogers, wake up. You requested for me to inform you of any change in the status of Mr. Rogers."_  Her eyes snap open and she struggles to sit up.

"Yes, ECHO. What is it?" She swings her legs over the edge of the bed and stands up.

_"He's awake and slightly distressed. He's requesting to be released from his bounds,"_  informs the AI.  _"Should I do as he asks? Do I inform the others?"_

"No, don't. In both questions. I'm going to him, please tell him to stay calm." She combs her fingers through her hair and calls the elevator.

_"Right away, Mrs. Rogers."_

The elevator arrives and she gets in it, telling the AI to take her to the medical wing. Her stomach flutters and she strokes her hand over it, soothing. There's a ding and the doors slide open; she gets off and walks to the room Steve occupies. She hears voice inside, and at first she thinks ECHO disobeyed her order to not inform anyone, but then she recognizes the voices of the AI and Steve's.

"... you?" He asks and Natasha pauses in her strides to listen.

_"I already told you, Mr. Rogers, my name's ECHO."_

"Yes, you did, but where is FRIDAY? I wasn't aware that Tony had changed the AI." She frowns. What is he saying?

_"Mr. Stark created me seven months ago when FRIDAY started showing signs of being outdated."_

"I think you are malfunctioning, ECHO, because I spent all day last week training and FRIDAY was the one registering my hear-rate and breathing patterns."

_"I'm sure my information is accurate, sir. FRIDAY was deactivated and I activated on August 12, 2019."_ There's a stifling silence, and Natasha knows what he's going to say even before he does. She closes her eyes and bites her lip, waiting.

"2019?! Oh, God you really are malfunctioning. Today's September 19, 2015."

Natasha exhales shakily and closes her eyes for a second before opening them again. They're glassy, but she refuses to let the tears fall. She walks away until she's sure that her voice won't reach his room.

"ECHO, call Helen. Tell her we have a situation." She says, her voice trembling.

* * *

Steve looks away from the window when he hears the door open. Dr. Cho walks in, followed by Sam.

"Dr. Cho, please untie me." He smiles and tugs on his restrain and frowns when none of them either move to do as he asks or returns the smile. "Is there something wrong?" Sam fidgets and clears his throat.

"Well, you see, Steve... um..."

"You have amnesia, Captain Rogers. You have lost all memory of the last five years." Tells him the doctor in a calm voice. "The shockwave of an explosion sent you crashing into a wall and it collapsed on top of you. You had four concussions that already seem to have healed, but your amnesia tells us that they left some residual damage."

Steve frowns and looks at his friend. He nods and passes his hand over his head. That's when Steve notices the golden ring on his finger.

"When did you get married?" He flexes his hands and looks down, tensing when he sees another ring, this time silver, on his own finger. "When did  _I_  get married?!" He starts tugging harder on his restrains, his breathing getting hard. Sam steps forward and puts a warm hand over his shoulder.

"Relax, man. We'll explain everything, ok? Just stay calm." The soldier nods and gets his breathing under control. "Good... ok. You got married about two years ago and I'm not married yet, I'm engaged." Steve nods, but is confused. Weren't women the ones to wear the engagement ring and the man the one that proposed? But, then again, times changed and now women could propose too. He'd even seen engagement rings for men, so he shouldn't have made himself that question.

"Who's the lucky lady?" He says, motioning at the ring and Sam frowns before realization dawns in his eyes. He smirks before answering.

"Oh, he's no lady." Steve blinks.

"Oh! I didn't know you were gay. Weren't you after that girl in the coffee shop a few months ago?" He pauses and sighs. "I mean, five years ago?"

"Well, I didn't know I was into men until I met him, so..." the doctor clears her throat, interrupting them and then is when he notices that she's been checking his wounds and vitals the entire time.

"Your wounds seem to be healing nicely, Captain, but before you ask: no, I will not release you or discharge you. I know you're made of tougher stuff than me, but you still suffered a lot of damage and if you don't let it heal, it'll get worse and I'm the one your wife will be after." She says the last comment carelessly, but Steve freezes and she realizes her mistake.

"My wife? Who...?" His eyes bounce from Helen to Sam and to the door –as if expecting her to waltz right in– and back again. His friend is chewing on his lower lip and the doctor is distracting herself away from his prodding stare by scribbling on her StarkPad. He locks is eyes on his friend. "Sam!"

"Natasha." His head turns so fast that Helen is surprised he doesn't get whiplash. There, standing at the open door is none other than Bucky Barnes. He turns and nods to somebody outside before entering and closing the door. He walks to Steve's bedside, shares a look with Sam and then smiles down at the blond man. "Hey, punk. How's it going?"

"Bucky... what...?" Then the shock of seeing his best friend lets his words sink in. "Wait, wait... did you say I'm married to Natasha? Natasha Romanov?"

"Well, it's Natasha Rogers now, but yes." Bucky smirks, amused by the shocked look on the man's face. Sam doesn't show so much restrain and laughs outright.

"Oh, God, that's the same face he made when Nat told him she–" Helen elbows him on the ribs and he clamps his mouth shut. Steve ignores them and looks at the door, hoping she's at the other side.

"Can I see her?" Sam and Bucky look at each other for a few seconds before turning towards the doctor. She ponders it for a few seconds before sighing.

"I don't think that's a wise idea, Steve. She's not the Natasha you remember and she can't take much stress right now." Steve frowns, worried.

"What? Why? Is she hurt?" He tugs on his restrains again and tries to calm down when Bucky puts a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Easy, punk; she's ok. It's just..." he looks at his companions and shares another look with Sam before turning to Steve. Dr. Cho sighs in defeat. "Ok, just stay calm." There's a beat of silence before Bucky speaks again. "She's eight months pregnant."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so what do you think?
> 
> This doesn't have anything to do with Back in Time –which I'll be updating as soon as possible, btw– so ignore any incongruences that you may find cause it's not the same universe. Also, this was supposed to be a One Shot that I was making to get out of my recent Author's Block, but it turned out to be super long –20 pages and it's not even half way done– so I'm just posting the first 6.5 pages to see what y'all think.
> 
> Kisses & TTYL, Lovers!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Kay, Lovers, here it is! It's been ready since before I even posted the first one, but I kinda wanted you guys to work for it a bit before giving it to you. A girl needs her ego stroked from time to time, after all XD.
> 
> Anyway, without further delay, i present you the second chapter! Hope you enjoy!

The door to the room opens and Natasha looks up from her hands caressing over her belly and fiddling with the twinkling silver rings on her fingers. Bucky, Sam and Helen step out. She tries to stand from the chair she's seated on and both Sam and Bucky are quick to help her. The doctor nods at her and walks away.

"How is he?" She asks, looking between the two of them. Sam is the one to speak.

"He's receptive to all the new information. He isn't closing in on himself or anything like that. And he was already in love with you in 2015, so he isn't in denial over your marriage or anything."

"He did get a shock over the pregnancy thing, though." Adds Bucky. "He said something about not being possible?" Natasha sighs and nods.

"I was sterilized in the Red Room. I told him one night after a nightmare in... July 2015. His last memory is from September, so he would remember it like it was yesterday." She tells them and tries to ignore the shocked looks on their faces. "They obviously did something wrong, or Steve's serum fixed me. We don't know, and we honestly don't care." She strokes her belly and massages her back. God, it hurts! "So... can I go in?"

The boys snap to attention, nodding; and while Bucky helps her walk to the room, Sam opens the door and gives Steve a heads up. But nothing can prepare him for the sight that is Natasha. She's huge, her eight months belly at plain sight with the stretchy tank top and the maternity shorts she's wearing. She's slightly chubby, but that is understandable in a pregnancy; he would've been worried if she'd kept her figure. She looks tired, she has light shadows under her eyes and her hair is a mess. But she has this smile on her face...

_Oh my God... she looks so beautiful!_

He's silent as Bucky helps her cross the room and sit on the chair at his bedside. His blue eyes are glued to her belly and he has this urge to just touch it... He doesn't realize he's tugging on his bounds until Natasha chuckles, her cheeks going rosy in her mirth. But she doesn't say anything, just presses her finger in the tinny scan at the base of his shackle and it pops open. She takes his hand next, careful of the IV and waits while Sam lowers the security bar of the bed to bring his hand flat to her stomach. He gasps, his eyes wide in awe and he flexes his fingers slightly when the baby inside punches at the palm of his hand. He can see through his peripheral vision that Natasha is shooing Sam and Bucky out of the room, but he couldn't care less. He has made a baby, a son or a daughter, and he honestly doesn't care which one. He has a baby with Natasha, the woman he's been steadily falling in love for the last year, at least from his perspective. He's sure he's fallen even more and more deeply in the five years he's lost.

"Hey..." a small hand covers his own and he looks up to glassy green eyes and that crooked smile he loves. "We'll get your memory back, ok? Don't worry." She moves his hand to the spot the baby is kicking and relishes in the way his eyes light up in wonder.

"When are you due?" He whispers and moves his hand over her stomach, caressing it and searching for their baby's movements.

"Two weeks and four days."

"That's pretty accurate..." she laughs and pats his wandering hand, moving it where she can feel the baby.

"That's because we told the doc the exact day he was conceived." She tells him and laughs when he blushes. He looks down again and splays his fingers so hers fall in between.

"He... we have a son..." she hums in agreement.

"James Clinton Rogers Romanov, James Rogers for short." He looks up, his eyes full of emotions and Natasha bends to kiss him on the forehead. She's dying to kiss him properly, but the poor man has already been through too much today.

"I'm so sorry I can't remember anything," he whispers and Natasha moves away, her green eyes locking with his glassy blue ones. "I'm sorry I can't remember  _us._ " She shushes him, cradling his cheek with one hand and caressing his, still on her stomach, with the other.

"We'll get through this, Steve. Together, like always."

"Together…"

* * *

She leaves soon after, with Steve's prompting, to eat and get some rest. Even without his memories, he still looks out for her. He doesn't need to, she can take care of herself and he knows that, but that doesn't stop him from worrying or as Bucky says: fretting.

Both Bucky and Sam are waiting for her outside of the room, talking in hushed whispers while Sam fiddles with Bucky's metal fingers. When they see her walk out, they jump at her and help her to the elevator and then to her wing. They sit her on the couch as Sam makes them a light meal, or as light as you can make to a pregnant woman. When they finish she urges them to leave, but they are reluctant.

"Guys, I swear! I'm ok and if not, I'll tell ECHO. There's still two weeks until James comes and there's no indication that he'll decide to come early. I'm just going to get some rest." They're still uncertain, reluctant to leave her alone. She sighs. "Ok, you can bring me either Wanda if she isn't with Vision or Peter if he isn't studying, but neither of you are staying here, I know you had plans for tonight." They share a look and finally concede to her wishes.

As soon as the elevator's doors close behind them, Natasha lets the exhaustion of the day show on her face. The nap she'd taken had helped but not by much, much to her chagrin. She wobbles to her couch and sits slowly, rubbing her hand over her bell when the baby gives her a rather forceful kick. She adjusts her position until both she and little James are comfortable and grabs the book she's currently reading. Turns out that being with child wasn't compatible with fieldwork and as soon as Fury had caught wind of the pregnancy, he'd taken her out and restricted Steve to local missions only. As soon as the baby was born, Steve would be out too and they wouldn't return to the field until James was at least crawling. And they still would be restricted to local missions if they wanted to keep working as a team; if not, one would be on the field and the other at home with the child.

If she was honest, the new clause in the SHIELD employment contract annoyed her to some extent, even if it pleased her greatly. She was a person of action, and so was Steve; being restricted wasn't something she was used to. Hopefully taking care of James would be as tiring as it was rewarding. She smiles at the thought; she has no doubt that it will be an amazing experience.

The elevator  _dings_ , announcing the arrival of her babysitter of the night. She looks up and smiles when she sees Peter Parker walking towards her with his backpack on his back and a big grin on his face. The kid had really grown on her since Stark brought him along and although she'd been reluctant to have a teenager in the Avengers, Peter was a force to recon with if he set his mind into it.

"Hey, Aunt Nat! Bucky and Sam send me to keep you some company!" he informs her, dropping his back on the couch and bending over the back of it to press a kiss to her cheek and give her stomach a brotherly pat. She loves that he's taken to call her and Steve aunt and uncle, it makes her feel as if she's making some good on the kid, just like with the Barton children.

"In other words: you're on babysitting duty." He snorts and jumps over the sofa to sit next to her.

"So, what do you want to do? Watch a movie or would you prefer to continue reading?" she smiles at his enquiry, happy to see how perceptive he is in spite of spending so much time with Tony Stark.

"I'll just read for a bit and then I'll go to bed." She tells him and he nods.

"I figured as much if you kicked Sam and Bucky out." She chuckles and he grins. "Don't worry, I have some homework to finish and an essay to start. I came prepared. Oh, before you loose yourself in there, I brought you something!" he opens his bag pack and ruffles inside, taking out what she presumes is his homework –Spanish and Math, by the looks of it– before taking out a package and passing it to her. "I wanted to get you guys something, but I couldn't find it anywhere so I had to make it myself." He smiles sheepishly and rubs his nape, a habit he's picked up from Steve.

She takes the package with a smile and waits until Peter turns back to her to open it. When she does, she can barely contain her gasp. The fist thing that she sees is a big, grey hoodie with a merge of her and Steve's insignia, his shield but with a hourglass instead of a star in the middle. She takes it out and shakes it; it clearly is Steve's size. She sets it aside and moves to the next item, a light blue t-shirt with the same logo, this time her size, pre-pregnancy. She caresses the image, noting how it's painted instead of just printed over the fabric, making it more durable. The next items are two identical t-shirts, Steve's size again, with the same color as hers. She frowns.

"How come Steve gets two and I just one?" she pouts at the teen and he just grins at her.

"That's 'cause one's for you! I know that you like wearing his clothes, so I made two of his size so you could have it." He looks absolutely proud of himself and her affection for the teen grows even more. She chuckles and ruffles his hair, making him blush and his eyes sparkle in happiness. "Don't stop! There's one thing more!"

She smiles at him one last time before grabbing the last articles of clothing and taking them out. Her eyes water instantly. Baby bodysuits, ten of them and in five different sizes so James can wear them as he grows. Half of them are a light grey and the other half in blue, the same colors as the hoodie and the shirts and, of course, with the merge of his parents insignias in the center.

"Oh, Peter…" she whispers, caressing the soft cloth between her fingers. God, he'd even searched for a soft fabric that he'd know she'd like.

"Do you like it?" his voice is eager and slightly nervous, shy even. She turns to him after depositing the clothes back into the package and hugs him tight.

"I love it. Thank you, Pete." She moves away and kisses him on the forehead. He grins and returns the kiss on her cheek. He separates completely before grinning cheekily at her.

"Awesome! 'Cause I have another set of bodysuits but with a spider behind it and a shirt for me." He says, his nose high in the air. " That way Big Bro Pete and Baby James will match on their strolls around the park." She full out laughs and he laughs along with her.

"You are incorrigible, Peter. How much did you spend on this?" he cringes and looks away. "Peter…"

"Not much!" he reacts quickly at her tone, waving his hands in a crossing motion. She arches a brow and crosses her arms over her belly. James pats her from inside as if trying to calm her. Peter sighs in defeat and flinches away from her. "All my savings from last year."

" ** _What?!_** " he curls away from her wrath and peeks at her only to look away quickly. She's  _seething_! "All your savings from a year in clothes?! Peter, I thought May taught you the value of money! You've done just like Stark!"

James protests to the screaming with a hard kick to her ribs that leaves her gasping and taking a hand to clutch at her belly. Peter forgets about his fear in a heartbeat and is instantly kneeling at her feet, frantically asking what's wrong and what he can do to help. He runs his hands over her stomach, trying to calm the hyperactive child while Natasha gets her breathing under control.

"I'm so sorry, Aunt Nat! I just wanted to do something nice for you guys! You've been so stressed this last few weeks! I even saw Uncle Steve running twice his usual distance in the same time last week." He's babbling, he knows, but he can't seem to stop. His hands are now just resting over her stomach, feeling James tap lightly at his palm. "I just thought you'd like a little surprise… I don't care if I can't go out for a few months or I can't buy the new videogame with Ned, I promise!"

She looks up at his earnest eyes, still carrying a spark of fear;  _of_  her or  _for_  her she doesn't know. Maybe both. She sighs in defeat and rests a hand over his moving it over where she can feel her baby tapping away against her.

"You're  _so_  lucky I'm hormonal right now, because I would've skinned you if I was in my right mind." Peter gifts her a tinny smile and relaxes slightly. "But if you pull something like this again you're grounded." He giggles and she caves, chuckling with him and ruffling his hair.

"Duly noted."

He gets up then to grab the clothes and throw them in the hamper, informing Natasha that they need a washing before they can be used. Something about washing away residual chemicals from the fabric. By the time he gets back, Natasha is already immersed in her book so he walks quietly to the other side of the couch and starts with his homework. He's done with Maths in less than ten minutes and he immediately passes on to Spanish. He's left staring at the exercises with a blank expression until Natasha speaks.

"Trouble, Parker?" she has a barely concealed amused tilt to her voice that irritates and reassures him at the same time.

"Um… yes, actually. What's the Spanish word for left?"

"In what concept?"

"'I left the bags at the store'"

"It's  _dejé_."

" _Yo dejé las bolsas en la tienda_?"

"Almost. Without the  _yo_. They don't need repeat the pronoun in each sentence. The verb tells them the number and person: I left, you left and  _yo dejé y tú dejaste_. See the difference? The way you said it wasn't incorrect, but it's better they way I'm telling you." Peter hums in acknowledgement and corrects his slight mistake.

"So if I say 'You have to finish your homework', the correct way to translate it is ' _Tienes que acabar los deberes_ '?" when she smiles proudly, he knows he's said it right.

"Atta boy, Peter! Keep going, you've got it." She closes the book and gets up slowly. "I'm going to bed now, ok? Feel free to use the guest room if you're feeling too lazy to go to Stark's wing." She bends to him, kisses his forehead and wobbles down the hall and into her room. She changes into Steve's Dodgers shirt –Peter was right, she really does love to wear his clothes– and tucks the dog tags back into the shirt. She lays slowly, moving until she finds a position comfortable for both of them and after a few minutes of imagining the feeling of her husband's warm hands on her stomach she succumbs to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, not much romanogers yet, but I promise that there's more in the next chapter. I'm also pleased to inform that the next chapter of Back in Time is almost finished already so if you haven't read it yet, I suggest you do. I've heard is pretty good XDXDXD. Btw, yes, the logo in the clothes is the one from the story poster XD. I'm gonna post it in my Tumblr account in a few if you want it.
> 
> PS: I would also appreciate more of your ego stroking, it helps me write if I know that someone is waiting impatiently for the next chapter. Don't pressure me, though XD. Be good with me, cause I'm kinda slow and I get Author's Block an awful lot.
> 
> Anyway, love you and TTYL, Lovers!


	3. Chapter 3

The days pass torturously slow for Steve, confined in a hospital bed with nothing to do but wait for the arrival of Natasha –his  _wife_! He still couldn't believe it!– and then mourn her departure until she could come again. He knows it's selfish of him; she's eight months pregnant, ready to pop, and here he is, feeling like an abandoned puppy every time she has to leave to take care of herself and their child. But it's just the sight of her, heavy with  _their_  child –their little James– that make him want to hug her – _them_ – and never let go.

He still hasn't regained any of his memories and is making him antsy, frustrated and cranky. He even snapped at Bucky a few days ago. Sam had immediately come to the rescue and Steve had felt like he was ten again, getting scolded by his Ma for getting in another fight with the bigger kids. He's still restless, though, and Natasha is starting to pick up on it. It surprises him that it's taken this long, actually, but he supposes that with the pregnancy and trying to find a way to get his memories back she's been too preoccupied to notice his barely concealed behavior.

He looks away from the window when the door opens and Dr. Cho steps in, followed by Natasha with the assistance of… a teenager? His confused frown doesn't go unnoticed by his wife, who requests to be seated in the chair while the doctor does a last check up. Today they're releasing him! Thank God!

"Steve," his attention is centered back on Natasha the second she opens her mouth and he notices the way the boy hovers close over her. "This is Peter, he joined the avengers two years ago." Steve frowns, the kid barely looks sixteen! "Don't frown at me like that, mister. It was Tony's doing. He'd already given the boy a suit before telling the team." The teen grins from behind her, she raises a brow and without turning around ads. "Wipe that smile off your face, Parker." Steve snorts when Peter presses his lips together.

"Sorry, Aunt Nat." he murmurs, catching Steve by surprise. Aunt? "In my and his defense, it was an awesome suit."

"Ok, all healed up!" interrupts Helen, already working in unstrapping the removable cast in Steve's leg and cutting away the wraps on his torso. Lastly, she presses her thumb on the scan and the shackles pop open. "Remember, take it easy. You haven't moved in almost a week and your body will resent it for the first few hours. And don't stress yourself, if your head starts to hurt just sit down and take a break." He nods at the instructions and by the time he's standing, Peter has already helped Natasha to her feet and is eagerly gathering the few possessions Steve had in the room.

"Don't worry, Uncle Steve, you'll get your memory back in no time! I've been making some research and while there's always the possibility of never remembering, the probability of it happening is closer to zero than one, and that's without taking the serum into account." Says the boy when he turns to the man, gifting him a big, bright grin. "I take your things, you help Aunt Nat. C'mon! I'm sure that as soon as you are in a more comfortable environment you'll start to remember!" he bounces out of the room and Steve turns to Natasha with an amused expression on his face.

"How old is he again?" he asks in a whisper as he takes her arm into his and he feels her lean her weight on him. It makes him frown, she's putting too much. "Are you ok?" he asks worriedly, letting go and circling an arm around her back so he can hold both arms. Natasha chuckles under her breath, he may not have the actual memories at the front of his mind, but they're there somewhere.

"He's sixteen and I'm fine, Steve. It's just that I haven't had a proper foot massage in a week and it's starting to take a toll on me. Believe it or not, it's been a really easy pregnancy; at least compared to Laura's. Lila was already a handful even before she was born." They both laugh and walk towards the elevator, where Peter waits for them with a patient smile.

They ride to the wing in a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. They are halfway there when ECHO interrupts the quiet.

 _"Mr. Parker, Mr. Stark requests your presence in the laboratory 3 ASAP."_ Peter groans and bangs his head back against the metallic wall.

"But I thought I had the day off!" whines the boy and Steve sees Natasha smile from the corner of his eyes.

 _"Mr. Stark said that you will like it."_ Continues the AI. The elevator reaches the wing and they get off. Peter huffs and lays his load on the table before going over to the pair and dropping a kiss to each cheek and then another one to Natasha's stomach.

"I'll come back later, ok?" he waves at them and gets on the elevator again. "So… what does that crazy–?" his voice is cut when the doors close and Steve and Natasha are alone at last.

He helps her to the couch and then takes the seat next to her. She shuffles closer to him and rearranges his position –moving his body as if it were her own– so his torso is facing her, one arm thrown over the couch so she can rest her head over it and his other hand pressed over her belly bellow her own. He takes over then, moving the hand over her belly to her legs and moving them so they're over his and curling the other arm behind her back to bring them closer until her head is cradles in the crook of his neck. Finally, he returns his hand to her stomach and shimmies it beneath hers so her warmth surrounds it. He can feel her shoulders shaking and for a second he panics, fearing he's done something wrong, until she presses her face to his neck and he can feel her smile.

"You may not remember it, Steve, but this is the way we usually spend our evening." Her voice is husky, sleepy even, as if the mere position is soothing her. His vision flashes for a second before he regains his bearings. Her legs stretched before him and his hands all over them, massaging away the pain and the swelling of her ankles.

"And then I give you a massage…" she looks up at him sharply, her eyes wide and hopeful. He smiles and tucks away the lock of red hair that has fallen before her eyes. "I just remembered." His smile dwindles slightly when he tries to remember something more and a headache appears instantly. "I'm sorry… I–" she shushes him with a finger over his lips.

"Don't worry, Steve, it'll come to you. Don't pressure it. You just remembered something and that's amazing! Baby steps, ok?" he sighs and nods reluctantly. She presses a kiss to his jaw and lets her head fall back to his chest.

Silence falls over the couple, but it's not awkward, it's peaceful; the kind that doesn't need to be filled. Steve's fingers comb through Natasha's hair, disentangling knots and smoothing it down her back. It's long, just a bit longer than last year– no, six years ago when they'd fled form SHIELD. It's curly too and in her natural red, which he loves. Natasha is caressing the back of his hand, moving it around her stomach to follow their baby's movements.

"Nat?" asks Steve and she hums, the vibration reverberating into his chest and spreading across his body like wildfire. "How did I react the first time you told me you where pregnant?" she chuckles lowly before rearranging he legs and leaning more on her husband.

"Well… you froze for like thirty seconds and you had this look in your eyes as if you honestly couldn't believe it was happening, as if you were dreaming." Her voice is soft and full of emotion and when he looks down her eyes are lost, clearly remembering the moment. "When the shock wore off you asked me if I was sure and when I said yes, you just dropped to your knees and pressed your face against my stomach. Then you looked up and said–" his vision flashes: afternoon light, Natasha towering over him and her abdomen is still flat. She's smiling and her eyes are glassy. He hears himself speak and he repeats the words.

"–'God, I love you so  _fucking_  much!'." His voice is merely a whispers and when she looks up, his eyes are glassy, as if he's living it all over again, experiencing the feelings all over again. She smiles and draws circles over his hand when it twitches. "And you said–"

"Language…" she giggles –she'll blame it on the hormones later, like everything– and nuzzles her face into his neck. He returns the laugh, dropping his head over hears and releasing a content sigh. "You ready for bed, Soldier?"

Steve tenses suddenly. Bed, he forgot about that. He has to share a bed with Natasha, and although he knows it's nothing unusual –she's  _pregnant_  for God's sake!– it still makes him terribly uncomfortable. Natasha, ever attuned to her husband's reactions, simply pats his hand and disentangles herself from him.

"Hey, don't worry. You can take the guest bedroom." When she tries to get on her feet he's quick to help her up and steadies her until she pats his arm. She then waddles across the room and down the hall, stopping at the second door on the right. "You'll have to take this one. The other one is practically Peter's now and that one is the nursery." Natasha says, pointing first at the adjacent door and then at the one right in front of it. He wants to ask more about Peter –the kid has a room in their home?– but the word 'nursery' immediately catches his attention and his eyes trace over the painted swirls in a rainbow of colors at the edges and the  _JAMES_ in Natasha's beautiful handwriting in the upper center.

"Can…" he swallows the lump in his throat and starts again. "Can I see it?"

Natasha smiles – _God_ , he loves her smile– and nods, opening the door and turning on the lights. He steps towards it and takes a deep breath before standing in the doorway. The first thing he sees is the sunrise colored wall: light blue, yellow and pink mostly. There's a big window too, with white curtains with blue, pink and yellow embroideries. He steps inside and sees that the ceiling is white, but that there are shaded clouds and painted birds of different colors and sizes. He looks to the right and sees a beach like scenery, with seagulls, crabs and even a turtle. In the corner that connects with the sunrise there's a small part of sea where a couple of dolphins play with the waves. There's a big closet that divides the wall in two. At the other side the sand climbs into dunes and it's not until Steve sees a camel with a cactus behind that he realizes it is a desert. There's a fennec too, and even a snake and a scorpion. That is where the changing table is, with a little thrash can on the side.

There's a soft light grey woolen rug beneath his bare feet with a dandelion seeds pattern and a Winnie the Pooh play Gym in a corner.

He turns to the left side of the room and notes that this one represents a forest and a field. The meadow, like the beach, takes half the wall and there are half a dozen of colorful flowers distributed across the grass. It's a bit difficult to see, with the white crib, so he steps closer and runs a hand over the smooth wood. He sees a horse grazing and a deer doing the same a foot away. He manages to see a rabbit and a fox between the bars and even a snail on a rock on the side. He steps away and looks at the forest part of the wall. The tall trees with the variety of birds and the squirrels. The underbrush with the wolf, the boar and the moose. There's too a little chest at the feet of the crib with a space nightlight, followed by a cocoon hanging chair, an armchair and a shelf filled with toys and what looked like a folded rocking bouncer on top.

He hears Natasha at the door and when he turns and catches sight of the last wall, his mouth falls open. There's a cacophony of colors: red, yellow, orange, pink, purple and dark blue. Of course, the sunset.

"So? What do you think?" she steps to his side and slides an arm around him and gives him a little squeeze before letting go. He finds himself missing her warmth more than he should; or maybe not, considering that they're married and with a baby due in less than two weeks, thirteen days if he's not mistaken.

"It's… amazing. I really don't know what to say… the animals are cute but without being too childish that we'll have to redo the room in a few years and the colors are perfect, not too bright but not too dull either." Natasha smiles, enjoying the way her husband looses himself in the paintings. He looks down at her, his eyes full of wonder and asks. "Who did this?"

Natasha just tilts her head to the side and smirks lopsidedly. " _You_  did." She expects the silence that follows, just as much as the confused frown and the little pout. God, she really hopes that James doesn't inherit it because if he does, she's  _screwed_.

"Nat, I've never painted in my life. Drawing yes, painting no." he stops speaking and sighs in frustration. "I started painting somewhere in this decisive five years I can't seem to remember." Natasha nods and raises a hand to comb her fingers through his hair.

"Don't rush it, Steve. It's only been five days since you woke up, you can't expect the amnesia to simply disappear." He sighs and nods, relaxing into her ministrations. She shifts her position and grimaces at the flare of pain that travels from her feet up her legs. "C'mon, let's go to sleep." She guides him to the guest room after turning off the lights, gives him a brief kiss on the lips and then enters her – _their_ – room and leaves the door cracked open, only slightly. He suddenly has the urge to follow her, to lie in bed next to her and cuddle close to her and his unborn baby all night long.

But he doesn't act on it and merely gazes at the door longingly for a few seconds before entering the guest room. It's simple, a twin bed with white and grey sheets, a night table and a small closet next to the window. He prepares for bed quietly, his body going on autopilot. As soon as he's ready, he slips under the covers and spends the next few minutes gazing at the ceiling before his eyelids start to grow heavy and he finally succumbs to sleep.

* * *

The days pas torturously slow for Steve, who can't seem for the life of him remember the last five years of his life. He has made progress, of course, a few memories here and there, but nothing major like his wedding day of the day he found out he was going to be a father despite all the times Natasha has narrated him the moments. And he can't help but grow steadily anxious as the time passes and he can't seem to remember. Natasha's due date is only seven days away now, and Steve would've liked to regain his memory before the birth of his son. Unfortunately, it doesn't look like it'll happen.

"Steve, will you stop pacing? You're making me dizzy." He stops and turns to her where she's seated in the couch with a novel in her hands. He looks at the characters written in the cover, recognizing them as Cyrillic. What surprises him, though, is that he can understand the words.  _The Wings of the Dove_ , in Russian.

"When did I learn Russian?" he muses out loud and Natasha looks up at him, surprised.

"You know Russian?" Steve just shrugs before nodding to the book still in her grasp.

"The Wings of the Dove, by Henry James." She straightens in her seat, as much as she can with little James in the way, and sets the book aside.

 **"Can you understand what I'm saying?"**  she speaks in her mother language, testing his knowledge, and Steve nods without missing a beat.

 **"Yes."**  he pauses for a second before continuing, this time switching back to English. "You didn't know?" she shakes her head and caresses her stomach when James kicks her a little too hard. Steve kneels at her feet and tries to help Natasha calm their child. "Maybe I just learned recently and didn't say anything cause I wanted to surprise you." She chuckles and shakes her head, amused.

"Consider me surprised." She muses and laughs along with Steve when he bursts out in peals of laughter. She doesn't really know how he can find it so funny, but his laugh is so contagious that she follows along with him. She really has turned soft.

They decide to stay in for the afternoon; just lazy about, watch a couple of movies and try to jog Steve's memory a bit more. Again, he remembers little bits –a night he had a nightmare and Natasha sung him back to sleep; a mission he had with Bucky and Sam and when the later got severely hurt, the former had been mad with rage; a day that James had been particularly fussy and Natasha had been mad with pain– but nothing major. When the sun starts to set, they decide to leave it be for the day and Steve makes a simple dinner. They eat in silence and then retire to their room. He had tried to keep his distance, but he'd caved at the third day of his return and had asked Natasha for his place in the bed. She'd, of course, accepted him back with open arms and a tender kiss.

Steve lays awake as Natasha tries to accommodate herself as best as she can. James has been moving around all evening, kicking and punching, softly this time. He's been restless and neither Steve or Natasha have been able to calm him down. When she finally finds a comfortable position, Steve curls himself around her and lays a protective hand over her stomach. The baby pats him and stills, finally. Natasha releases a relived sigh and melts into the bed.

"Goodnight, Soldier." She turns her head slightly and presses a kiss to his cheek before pecking his lips and settling in.

"Night." He whispers back.

Hours later, Natasha shakes him awake urgently, repeating his name over and over to wake him up. He's cold, and he can feel moistness in the blankets.

 **"Steve, for God's sake, wake up!"**  a harsh curse follows, one he's thankful he doesn't recognize, before the side of her fist collides with his stomach. It's not a strong punch, but it's hard enough to shakes what was left of his sleep and makes him bolt from the bed. He looks around, startled and momentarily disoriented.

"What? What's wrong? What's happening?" Natasha just groans and when he turns he sees her clutching her stomach. He can see a shadow surrounding her, all over the bed.

"My water broke," his brain suddenly stops functioning. Thankfully, Natasha already anticipated it, an is already snapping him out before the shock sets in. "Steve, focus! Get the bag while I change." She moves slowly, sits on the edge of the bed for a few seconds before getting up and walking gingerly to the closet.

Steve observes as she changes until he sends him a  _look_ that has him scrambling out of the master bedroom and into the nursery. He rushes to the closet and opens it, finding a flurry of colors in tiny dosages –black, green, red, pink, purple, blue, white–: tiny t-shirts, pants, bodysuits and pijamas. At the foot of the closet, there's a duffle bag that Steve immediately takes, swings over his shoulder and races back to Natasha's side. She's at the door, holding onto it and clutching her belly as another contraction hits.

"ECHO!"

 _"The medical staff has already been informed of your condition and are waiting for your arrival, Mrs. Rogers"_ says the AI and Steve makes a mental note to thank Tony later for programing his AIs to be proactive.

"Thank you, E!" answers Natasha and extends a trembling hand towards Steve, who takes it immediately and curls his other arm around her. He ushers her to the elevator, only to find it's already there. Seriously, he adores this AI.

As soon as they reach the medical bay, they are met by Bruce and the in-house doctor, along with a nurse that takes the duffle bag to prepare the baby's essentials. Steve has to take over as Natasha's feet when another contraction hits and almost drops her to the floor.

"Oh, God, that one was intense." She grunts out against his neck as he sets her down on a bed. Bruce appears and asks if she'll want the epidural. She starts to shake her head, but a small squeeze from Steve stops the motion. She's not alone, he's here for her and there's nothing wrong with requesting anesthesia. "Yes, Bruce. Thanks."

An hour later the in-house doc deems her dilated enough to administer the epidural. After that, five more hours of Natasha quietly groaning and whimpering in pain follow, paired with a worried and fretting Steve at her side, letting her squeeze his hand as hard as she needs and wiping sweat from her face follow. It's not until they're an hour away from dawn that the doctor says that she's ready.

"Ok, people! Ready to bring this kid to the world?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Kay! Third chapter? What do you think? Good, no good? Does it need some drama? I think it does! *enter super villain laugh* Yeah... something that will make you hate me like HYDRA breaking into the compound and stealing baby James. That would be dramatic enough, right?


	4. Chapter 4

The process of delivering a baby is nothing like Steve expected it to be, it's nothing like the movies show it. There's no promises of never touching her again, no screams of desperation for  _take this fucking baby out of me!_ No. there's none of that. There are screams, yes, but they are wordless cries of exertion and pain. A birth is messy too; they show that in TV, but not to its fullest and truest extent: blood, sweat, tears and amniotic fluids everywhere. On him, on the doctor, on Natasha, on Bruce and of course all over the floor. He almost panics at the sight of the blood, but they tell him it's normal so he tries to remain calm.

He can do this. For James. For Natasha.

He stays by her side, wiping sweat from her forehead and tucking her damp hair behind her ears. Her eyes are scrunched shut, her breathing is ragged and her entire face is red. The doctor tells her to push again when she feels the need, and she does almost immediately. Her hand tightens around his and he hears something crack. Everybody turns to him, but he just waves them away and offers Natasha his other hand. The broken finger will be healed in a couple of hours at most, and he just lets Bruce enough time to reset it before he's ordering him, as his captain, to return where he's needed the most.

"He's crowning, Natasha! Another push and his head is out!" Bruce's voice is drowned by Natasha's scream. "That's it! Good, good! One last push, Nat, one big push for his shoulders and you'll be able to hold him!"

"C'mon, Nat, you can do this. One last push. Just one more, doll." To his surprise she laughs breathlessly and turns her head towards him, a tired but elated smile stretching her lips upwards.

"I love it when you call me that." Before he can reply, she whimpers before screaming again.

He hears Bruce grunt and a second later a high-pitched cry fills the air. Bruce lays the baby over his mother's chest, still covered in blood and amniotic fluids. He's purplish and pruney and has a sticky white  _thing_  all over him; but the first thing that Steve thinks is that James is perfect. He doesn't notice that he's crying until Natasha looks up and wipes the tears from his face. He steps closer and circles an arm around her shoulders. Together, they gaze down at their little James until Bruce take him for weighting, measuring and cleaning. But as soon as her arms are free, Natasha sags to the bed, as if she can't support her weight.

"Nat?" she looks up at him and tries to smile, but it falls. At first he thinks she's just exhausted, but when he looks down, he sees a thin but steady trickle of blood falling from the edge of the bed. She's still bleeding. "Bruce! Bruce, why is she bleeding?" the man returns with a clean James dressed in one of the bodysuits Peter gifted him and promptly swears, hastily passing the baby to Steve.

"That shouldn't be happening! Dave! Dave, what he hell are you doing?! Why haven't you stitched her up yet?!" Bruce sounds enraged and for a second Steve sees his skin turn a light green but he seems to control it as he presses a towel between Natasha's legs. "Dave, for fucks sake, get back here or I swear to God–!" Natasha moans and Steve immediately tunes everything else off. He steps back to her side, cradling baby James carefully to his chest and using his free hand to caress her cheek. She turns to him, but her eyes are unfocused. "ECHO, get the nurses in here!"

"Nat?" his voice trembles and she tries to smiles, but it falls flat once again. And suddenly, the doors burst open and two nurses enter. Bruce immediately starts shouting orders and he's pushed aside so they can do their job. A third nurse appears from nowhere and tries to herd him away. "No, no! I'm not leaving her!" Bruce comes, his hands hidden in the folds of a towel. He knows it's to cover the blood that soaks them.

"Steve, please, there's nothing you can do here. You have to concentrate, take care of your kid. Do you remember if Natasha wants to breastfeed?" his mind is reeling, but he tries to concentrate.

"I don't–" his vision flashes and then he remembers, soft lights, the two of them seated on the couch and there's a laptop in his lap. A webpage with the pros and cons of breastfeeding is open; it has details in pink and blue. She has that little crease between her brows that she gets what she's deep in thought. "She… she wants to. The page said it was better for the baby."

He rearranges James in his arms, bringing him closer to his chest. The purplish tint has subsides and now he's just rosy, but he's still pruney and has little specks of that white thing still clinging to him. Bruce manages to get him out of the room and into the next, where the bag rests. He ruffles through it, taking out a little grey blanket. He wraps it around his son and fishes for the little brown hat with bear ears that Peter had recovered from when he was a baby. The kid had assured them that it would be his honor that his 'Little Bro' would inherit something from him, and both Steve and Natasha had caved. How were they to deny the teen something like that?

"Steve? Steve, are you listening to me?" the man snaps his head towards his friend, noting the worried frown marring his features.

"Sorry…"

"I was saying that James will have to cope with a bottle until Natasha is better. We're probably going to have to medicate her and it will go into her milk too, so James won't be able to drink it." Steve just nods, even though he knows Natasha will have his head when she finds out. He's not happy with it either, he knows that breastfeeding is more that just giving the baby the nutrients and antibodies and whatnot, its about the bonding, the twenty/thirty minutes you spend just watching your baby eat from you. He remembers now, how Natasha had been adamant about breastfeeding once they got all the information.

"When will she be able to breastfeed again?" Bruce pounders the question for a second, before giving Steve a number and the caring requirements he has to meet to take Natasha home. Just as he's giving him advice in what formula to buy that's best for James, a sullen looking nurse exits Natasha's room. It immediately sets Steve on edge. "What happened? Is Natasha ok?"

"She's stable, sir, we have her hooked with a bag of fluids and another of blood, but…" the man fidgets, nervous under the stare of two Avengers.

"But? C'mon, Ronnie, what's wrong?"

"She's in a coma."

* * *

The next hours are a total blur to Steve. He sits through the medical briefing for Natasha's condition, changes James' diaper –remembers the day he learned to do that– and stands at Natasha's bedside for a total of an hour and three minutes without moving a muscles with his son in his arms until the baby wakes up and demands food. He reluctantly leaves the room in search of something to give the newborn. When he enters the kitchen, he sees two cans of baby formula waiting on the counter. His eyes water and he mentally thanks whomever has thought ahead and bought his baby something to eat in the hours he's been too shocked to function.

He moves efficiently, cradling James close and reading the instructions before starting to prepare it. He's just starting the give him the bottle when Bucky enters the kitchen, hair mused and an anxious look on his face.

"Steve! ECHO told us Nat went into labor last night! How did it go? How is– What the hell are you doing?! You're giving him a bottle?!" Steve raises his eyes for a second before returning them to his son. He doesn't really feel like doing this right now. "Where's Nat? I am  _so_  telling on you!" Steve feels his eyes water, but stubbornly blinks the tears away. He keeps his gaze on James as the babe looks up at him with his baby blues and he strokes the thin mop of vibrant red hair on the top of his little head. "Steve? Steve, did something happen?" Bucky steps forward and puts a hand over his friend's shoulder. Steve looks up, his bloodshot eyes making contact with his best friend's. "Steve…"

"She's in a coma…" his voice is weak and he can feel his lower lip tremble in his effort to suppress his emotions. He won't break down in front of his baby, he'll hold up until James' asleep, and then he'll let the walls down. Bucky curses and Steve doesn't even have the energy to chastise him.

"Shit, Steve, I'm sorry. I… God, man…" Bucky's arms are around him in an instant and he's hugging him, not too strong so they don't crush baby James, but enough for Steve to relax slightly. He's not alone, everything will be fine and Natasha will wake up in no time.

He refuses to believe otherwise.

* * *

Hours later, when all the Avengers currently in the Facility have gone through her room to see her and James is fed and changed, Steve is left alone, with only his son and the sound of the machines that keep his wife alive to make him company. James is snoring in his arms, and he caresses his fingers through his thin mop of red hair, his eyes not once straying from Natasha. She's pale and has bruises under her eyes, but thankfully her breathing and heartbeat are strong. Bruce had wanted to intubate her, to make sure that air was going into her lungs, but Steve had refused. There were no signs that she would get worse, so there was no need to shove a hard-plastic tube down her throat. If her vitals dropped, then they would intubate her, but in the meantime the cannula under her nose was more than enough.

His hands itch to reach for her, to grab one of her own and hold on tight, but he's afraid of letting go of James, of their baby getting hurt because he wasn't holding him as he should. He shifts, rearranging his arms so they don't fall asleep from being in the same position for too long and the child protests, whimpering pitifully. Steve shushes and rocks him, trying –quite unsuccessfully– to get him back asleep. But James, in true baby-with-super-soldier-serum fashion, calms down but keeps his eyes open and alert and gazes up at his father with big, blue eyes. Steve's eyes water and he smiles, raising the boy so he can kiss his brow.

"Hey, baby… you gotta stay calm, ok? Mommy needs to rest. She got hurt bringing you here, you know? But don't worry, it wasn't your fault." His voice is low and soft. He pats the boy's bottom as he rocks him. "One of her doctors neglected his duties, so now she's sick. She'll get better in no time, though, and you'll get to meet her and eat something very yummy, so much better than formula." James blinks and Steve chuckles. "Yeah, that stuff I've been giving you isn't milk. No need to look at me like that, little one." The baby's expression doesn't changed. Steve sighs with an amused smile on his lips. "Look at me, Nat. Talking to a newborn as if he could understand me. I'm going crazy without you." He looks up, she looks as ashen as she did ten minutes ago. "I managed to remember a few things: how to change his diaper, and how you told me you were pregnant…" he smiles sadly at the memory. They had been fighting, he'd been too reckless in their last mission and paired with her newly raging hormones, she had just shouted at him that he was a father now, that he had to be more careful. The fight had come to a screeching halt, both looking surprised of what had come out of her mouth. "I remembered our first date too…" right after a mission, she'd told him to prepare them something to eat and to meet her at the rooftop of his building. She'd been waiting there in a blanket, surrounded by pillows he didn't even want to know from where she'd gotten and they'd watched the meteor shower snuggled together and then made out like teenagers. He looks at her, his eyes getting glassy yet again. "Please wake up, Nat…" his voice trembles, a tear escapes before he can suppress it. "Please, I need you…"

He's answered by a little whimper from James as he soils his diaper. Steve sighs and gets up. With a little hesitation, he presses James to his chest as he bends over Natasha to press a kiss to her lips before leaving.

* * *

The day passes by slowly, with James waking every few hours to eat and do his business before falling asleep again. At least that left Steve a lot of time to jut sit at Natasha's bedside and be with her. Sam and Bucky had gotten him a portable bassinet for when his arms grew tired and James was currently sleeping in it right next to him. He had one of Natasha's hands between his own and he was just staring at her. She was looking better already, her skin looking more rosy and the blue beneath her eyes fading. Her hair was matted and oily, but the only thing he'd managed to do was braid it and set it over her shoulder to keep it from digging into her back.

He looks at the clock, 16:02. In thirty minutes a couple of nurses would come in to move Natasha. They had explained that they had to move her and change her position from time to time to keep her from getting bedsores and keep her muscles from seizing up. Both things hurt like hell –he'd seen pictures of bedsores, not pretty– so he didn't complain when they kick him out every time. He uses the fifteen minutes to feed and change James and if his baby's still asleep, he just wanders around the facility like a lost soul (Bucky's words, not his).

When the nurses come, Steve thanks them once again for caring for Natasha and leaves them to their work with James asleep in his arms. He wanders around the halls until he reaches the main room, where Tony is seated at the table with a two of his top lawyers. Steve frowns, what are they doing here?

"– I don't care, Fred! That man is going to prison!" exclaims Tony, slamming his palm over the table. Fred jumps, but Miranda is already used to Tony's temper when things don't go the way they should, so she just raises a brow.

"There's nothing we can do, Mr. Stark. We can take everything from him, take away his practice license and all his money, but we can't take him to court for manslaughter. Mrs. Rogers' alive, so all we can do is sue him for negligence."

"She's in a coma, Miranda! She's missing the fist days of life of her firstborn; she's never going to get that back!"

"We're aware of that, but there's nothing we can do. The maximum punishment that the court can give him is a big fee, his license taken away and community service." The billionaire is silent for a moment before continuing.

"Then I want him ruined: everything taken away, he won't be able to practice ever again and I want him in the worst community service that there is, as many hours as possible. Understood?" the attorneys nod and Tony dismisses them. Once their gone, Steve steps forward an sits next to Tony. The man jumps and curses. "Holy– Steve! Stop picking things up from your wife, will you?" the soldier smiles softly.

"What was that about?" Tony glares at him for a second before answering.

"I'm gonna destroy Dave Williams. He won't be a doctor or rich for much longer. We're taking him to court for what he did to Nat, and he's going down."

Steve looks down at James as he stirs, a little fist emerging from beneath the little blanket to tuck itself beside a rosy cheek. Bug, blue eyes blink open and gaze up at him and it's just a second before James is making the face he usually does when he's soiling his diaper. Steve gets up again to take care of his child, but he stops and looks at Tony.

"Thank you, Tony. I hope he gets what he deserves." The man nods, a determined look in his eyes. Steve turns and leaves the room, heart slightly lighter now that he knows that the person that almost killed Natasha will pay for what he's done.

* * *

The shrill cry coming both from the monitor at his bedside and from outside his room wakes Steve from his slumber and he's on his feet in a flash, trotting down out and entering the nursery. James is wailing harder now, his face red from the effort and his blanket pooled at his feet from his jerky movements.

"Shh, Jamie, shh. Daddy's here, baby; Daddy's here." He picks the boy up and rocks him. He inhales, but he still smells clean, so he must be hungry.

Softly patting the babe's bottom, Steve exits the nursery and goes to the kitchen to prepare a bottle. He grabs one that already has the amount of formula necessary and adds the water before shaking it and putting it in the microwave. James is quiet now, face pressed to Steve's shoulder and he can already feel the drool seeping through his shirt. He sighs, he forgot the burping cloth again. There's a soft  _beep-beep_ and Steve grabs the bottle, tests the temperature and deeming it good, he shifts James and pops the nipple into his little mouth. The little one suckles with gusto and Steve returns to the nursery; he sits in the cocoon chair and rocks it, smiling when James closes his eyes contently. He has one little hand over one of Steve's fingers, and he notes that they're so tinny that they can barely close around it.*

Once the child is done, Steve sets the bottle aside, gets a burping cloth and goes about burping and changing James once the smell appears. Once he's back into his pajamas, Steve settles him against his chest and starts to sing first the lullaby his mother used to sing to him and then the Russian one Natasha had taught him. His vision flashes, and suddenly he remembers the day, how she'd told him that she would like for James to speak Russian from birth, how he'd laid his head in her lap next to the still small baby bump and listened to Natasha sing her favorite Russian lullaby.

He blinks and she's gone and he needs a moment to realize that James' asleep. He sets him in his crib, covers him with his teddy bear's blanket. He leans in to press a kiss over his little head before returning to his bed and collapsing in it. Right before he falls asleep, his eyes catch the time in the digital clock: 02:17.

_Huh… two hours and a half. That's a new record._

* * *

James wakes up again at three four, five thirty, and seven and it's then when Steve decides it's time to start the day. He drinks about a gallon of coffee before he starts to feel like a normal person and remembers a day when he and Natasha had woken up before dawn and sat in front of the windows to see the sunrise, the smell of coffee saturating the air.

As per Bruce and Bucky's request (order), Steve stays home today. The only thing Natasha needs right now is rest, and having him hovering over her just hinders the staff when they're trying to care for her. Instead, he wanders around the compound with James in his arms, pointing things out to him when he's awake, feeding him and changing him. A few hours later, Bruce tells him that they've taken Natasha off her meds, so if she wakes up tomorrow she'll be able to nurse James.

"You hear that, buddy? No more of that yucky stuff." He whispers to his dozing son. The boy gurgles in his sleep and tightens his little hand around the blanket he's wrapped in.

Bruce watches them and offers a silent prayer for whoever is listening to get Natasha back to these two. He knew Steve would be able to raise the kid on his own, just as well as Natasha if their situations were reversed, but it would take an immense toll on him. These two flourished together; they complemented each other in every possible way and more. Where one flawed, the other thrived and vice versa. The loss of one half would leave the other hollow. It all seemed like a fairy tale, that two people depended so deeply from one another and he wouldn't have believed it if he wasn't witnessing it right now.

Against his better judgment, he herds Steve into Natasha's room and makes a nurse return the bassinet they had stored back into the room. He reminds Steve once again to be patient, that she just needs rest and leaves him alone once the bassinet is put right next to him. He looks at him one final time before leaving and his eyes fill up with sympathy at the sight of the man cradling the baby close to his chest and leaning over so he can put one of Natasha's hands over their son.

* * *

Once he hears the door close, he lets the tears fall. They trail silently down his cheeks and James gurgles, looking around the room. One little droplet lands on his little, chubby cheek and he makes a little surprised noise, but soon forgets about it and starts fussing. Looks like someone's hungry. Steve carefully takes Natasha's hand, presses a kiss over the back of it and gets up to care for their kid. Maybe she'll be mad that he gave him formula, but at least she won't wake up to find a starving baby.

He rocks James all the way to the kitchen and smiles gratefully at Sam when he gets up immediately to take the baby. Steve stays silent as he prepares the bottle; the only sound Sam's little murmurs to the child. Once done, he offers it to him and Sam takes it with wide eyes. Steve hasn't really let anyone help him with Jamie, at least not when it comes to feedings and diaper changes, so Sam is surprised to be popping the nipple in James' mouth and watching him suck greedily. He feels grateful to have this little bonding time with his nephew.

"How is she?" he asks a minute later, looking up from the baby's blue eyes to his father's identical ones.

Steve sighs and bites his lip, carding his fingers through his hair and then scratching at his beard. It's getting rather long, he should really trim it or shave it all together. His vision flashes and he finds himself laid out on a bed, Natasha on top of him and with a murderous face as she tells him that if he shaves he'll sleep on the street. His eyes mist over and he shakes his head, gathering himself enough to answer Sam's question.

"Ok, I guess. Bruce said that she's off her meds, so if she wakes up tomorrow she'll be able to breastfeed Jamie. She's only on blood now, she lost a lot." Sam hums and pat's the boy's bottom.

"Yeah… I heard Stark yelling at his lawyers the other day. The new guy almost crapped himself." An amused grin curves their lips upwards for a few seconds. Almost a minute passes before he speaks again. "She'll pull through, Steve. She's the most badass person I know; she wouldn't let this get to her." James finishes his bottle and Sam sets it aside, getting up and facing Steve. "Ok, now help me do this, never burped a baby before."

Steve smiles once again and spends the next five minutes preparing Sam: telling him how to lean James over his shoulder, how to put the burping cloth and how to encourage his son to burp without hurting him. In the end, Sam gets formula all over his neck but Steve is laughing for the first time since the birth, so it's completely worth it.

James returns to Steve's arms and Sam leaves to change, pointing at the newborn and telling him that he'll have his revenge at the first Christmas he's old enough to ask for something. Steve chuckles and rocks his son, who will probably soil his diaper in–

"Guh…" his little face scrunches up and then relaxes before he starts fussing.

Now.

* * *

 _"Mr. Rogers."_ ECHO's voice echoes in his room, waking him up from his restless sleep.

"Yeah, wha'?" he mumbles, half asleep, rubbing his eyes lazily as he sits up.

 _"Mrs. Rogers is waking up, sir. Mr. Banner is checking her over as we speak. I thought it would be a good idea to notify you."_ Steve's head snaps up and he's off the bed in a flash. He throws on shirt and pulls up a pair of pants before dashing out the room and into the nursery. James' is sleeping in his crib, his little blankets bunched up around his waist. Steve slows down and picks him up carefully, taking a blanket with him so he doesn't get cold and dashes out, trotting to the elevator. The doors open silently and as soon as he's in, it starts its trip towards the medical ward.

They arrive a few minutes later and James protests at the harsh lights, his little face scrunching up in discomfort until ECHO lowers them and he goes back to sleep. Just as he's about to step towards the hallway, Bruce exits Natasha's room. The older man smiles to him and motions into the room with a sweep of his arm. The smile that appears on Steve's face could have lighted up a stadium. He trots like a giddy child to the door and takes a deep breath before entering.

Blue eyes collide with green and Natasha whispers his name; that's all his tear ducts need to start working and it's like they send a message because she starts crying too. He rushes over and bends over her, careful not to crush their son and starts pressing kisses all over her face. She rasps out a little laugh and raises a hand to stop him and kiss him properly. They nuzzle their faces together and Steve smiles, the tightness that has been compressing his chest finally easing. His eyes flash and he's suddenly feeling like shit and Natasha is bent over him, eyes red and glassy and smiling. Looks like their positions had been reversed once.

"Steve…" she coughs and he snaps out of it. He presses a kiss to her brow and smiles softly.

"Here, Nat. Meet Jamie." His voice is soft and his hands tender as he helps her settle their sleeping son into her tired arms. Once he's sure her arms aren't too weak still that she'll drop him, he leaves her a moment to have James to herself and goes to get her some water. He returns a couple of minutes later and finds her humming the Irish lullaby his mother sang to him. It makes him smile once again. "Here, doll, drink some." He points the straw to her and she gulps greedily. "Easy, Tash, take it easy." He murmurs, pushing her hair to the side with his free hand and curling an arm around hers to better support their child.

"What happened?" she murmurs once she's done with the water. He sets the glass aside and arranges himself better around her. She drops her head to his chest as if it weights a ton. She groans and presses further. "My head's killing me. It's like a thousand elephants stomped over me." Steve caresses her hand.

"The doc left without stitching you up, you lost a lot of blood." His voice cracks and he clears his throat before continuing. "You've been in a coma for almost three days, Natasha." She looks up surprised and Steve nods. She lowers her eyes back down to James and takes in a deep breath, letting the information sink in. She caresses his little cheeks with her knuckles.

"I lost his first days…" she whispers brokenly, her voice wet with impending tears. Steve sniffles and holds her tighter, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"Tony already has his lawyers on him. He will pay." She hums and adjusts the blanket around James' face.

"That won't give me those days back…"

* * *

A day later, Natasha is released with strict orders to not do anything but rest. Steve is given a list of things to do and they're out, Natasha in a wheelchair with James gurgling in her arms and Steve behind her, pushing her into their home and to their room. As he sets her in their bed, James starts fussing.

"I bet he's hungry." Says Steve, fluffing a pillow to put it behind Natasha so she's more comfortable. "You wanna try nursing him? Bruce told me you'd be able to now." She looks up at him and smiles, nodding.

With Steve's help, Natasha takes off her shirt and bra –next time she'll put on a nursing one– and rearranges James so he's facing her nipple. He latches on quickly and his eyes close in contentment. Natasha shudders at the unusual sensation but relaxes quickly, laying back towards Steve and simply admiring their baby, nursing for the first time.

"See, sweetie? This is so much better than formula." Whispers Steve in a conspiratorial way, making Natasha snort and turn to look at him. She had been upset that James had been on formula, but obviously understood that there was no other choice.

"What?" she chuckles and Steve shrugs, plastering on an innocent look on his face.

"Well, it's true! Your milk has to be a thousand times better than formula, and not just in taste! He just never made that face when I gave him a bottle, so I'm right." He nods, a smug look on his face before he dissolves into laughter. Natasha soon follows and they don't stop until James lets go and Natasha moves him to her other breast.

Once James is done, Steve takes him for burping and changing before returning him to Natasha while he goes to prepare dinner. He makes a simple omelet of cheese, ham and just a pinch of cumin to make it tastier. He plates it and makes a little smiley face over the omelet with cumin. He puts both in a tray and goes back to his family. He finds Natasha rocking a dozing James, softly singing the Russian lullaby she'd taught him. She looks up and smiles softly; he returns it ad sets the tray on the bed. He takes James and tucks him in his crib in the nursery. They enjoy of their dinner in silence, exchanging loving looks and tender smiles.

As he cleans the dishes, Steve thanks whoever is listening for returning Natasha to them. And as he settles in, tucking himself as close to her as possible and entwining his legs and fingers with hers, he presses a long kiss to her lips and smiles, happy to be home once again.

At last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *- If any of my readers is an artist, would you draw this little moment for me? I just keep imagining in my head: this little, teeny tinny hand trying to close around one of Steve's fingers and Steve getting all choked up about it. Also, if anybody feels like drawing anything about any of my stories, feel free to do so! The only thing I ask is for you to send me the web link so I can fangirl over it XDXD.
> 
> Also, Nat's feeling so down because she's anemic, and that makes you feel shitting. And that, on top of delivering a baby leaves her kinda on the ground. This actually happened to my aunt when she birthed my baby cousin, some douche left without stitching her up and she was in a coma for a week or so, 6 days I think. Anyway, the thing is that I asked if she could tell me about it and this is her description of how she felt. I don't know any more detailed experiences, so I rolled with it.
> 
> Anyway, this is the last chapter. I really wasn't expecting to end it so quickly, but the story develops however it wants and I have no control over it whatsoever. However, if at least ten or so people ask, I'll do an epilogue. I would do it without people asking, but I have other things to do and if no one is interested in an epilogue I'll continue with my other stories.
> 
> Thank you all for reading and Merry Christmas (I know I'm early, but knowing me I won't post anything for Christmas and better save than sorry). Also, to all students, hope you get good marks, I know I'm nervous for them XD.


	5. Ok, about the Epilogue...

Ok, this is embarrassing... I was reading over the story and I saw that Nat told Steve she was pregnant two different times... yeah, turns out it doesn't work that way XDXD. I don't really know which one I like better, so if you would tell me which one to erase and with one to keep it would be awesome.

Also, only 6 people asked for an epilogue and I think I said a minimum of 10 had to ask, so I won't be doing an epilogue. If more people ask and it reaches 10 by the time I change the 'telling about the pregnancy' thing, then I'll do it.

Thank you all for your attention and support, I hope to hear from you soon.

Kisses!!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, here it is! In the end, 11 people asked for this so I'm delivering as promised. Enjoy!

When the call comes in telling them that the date is set, Steve and Natasha are in the middle of changing James' diaper. They love doing these things together –well, not this one in particular because it stinks, literally–, taking care of their son as one. James has already been fed, another thing they like to share as Steve refuses to unglue his chest from her back and his eyes from the contented look in the baby's face, and they were just finishing getting him back into his 'poop factory' onesie –a gift from Sam after his first afternoon of babysitting– when the phone rang.

"I'll get it, you give him some snuggles." Says Natasha, patting Steve's shoulder, pressing a kiss to his cheek and then going to the phone. She picks it up, frowns a little at the unknown number and answers it. "Hello?"

"Natasha Rogers?"

"That's me, who's asking?"

"I'm Miranda, Tony's attorney? Dave Williams has refused to take the deal we offered so we'll be taking this to court. I was wondering if we could meet up to prepare a little." Natasha blinks and swallows before taking a deep breath.

"Uhh… yeah, sure. Could you come tomorrow morning?"

"Of course, I'll be there at ten."

She hangs up and lowers the phone back to the table. The smile falls from her lips and she takes in a deep breath. It's not that she's nervous, she knows that there's no way that they're going to lose, but the thought of facing the man responsible of her coma and the loss of the first days of her son's life makes her want to puke. She can hear the sound of James laughing at whatever Steve is doing and it makes the pressure in her chest lighten. She has nothing to fear, Steve will be with her, watching her back. As always.

* * *

The surrounding area of the courthouse is filled to the brim, more police officers than Steve can count keeping the people out of the way. Apparently, word had gotten out that the Black Widow had been mistreated in her hour of need and seemingly the entirety of New York was out for blood. If it weren't for the reason that everyone was congregated here, Steve would hold his head high and bask in the knowledge of how many people adored Natasha and cared about her well being.

Instead, Steve gets out of the car, donned in a suit that probably costs more than the salary of the ten bodyguards surrounding him combined and reaches in to take James form Natasha so she can exit the car with him. As soon as she's standing with him, dressed in a suit matching his sans tie, the crowd falls silent. James is dressed too in a little suit, made just for him by Tony's private designer. He looks around from his perch on Steve's chest, his eyes big and round. He smiles at a police officer close to them and giggles, waving one little hand. There's a collective ' _Aww!_ ' from the crowd, or at least the closest people that can see them and James lights up under the attention.

And then the cameras start flashing. James cries out and covers his face with his hands before he takes a deep breath and shrieks at the top of his lungs, scared of the blinding lights. The bodyguards tighten their formation and usher them up the stairs as the people go wild trying to locate the photographers that have caused the baby distress. Steve presses James closer to him and tries to shush him under the screams of the crowd that is only making everything worse for the little boy.

As soon as they enter the building, the security guards close the doors, muffling the noise. Steve bounces their son as Natasha coos at him, trying to make him stop crying.

"It's alright, baby, just a little light. Nothing to be scared about." She murmurs and he reaches a little hand to her. She takes it and kisses it, making him giggle even though there are still tears rolling down his chubby cheeks.

"There he is!" says Steve then and sneaks a hand to James' tummy to tickle him. The baby laughs and tries to grab the fingers, but his father is faster and he starts dropping kisses all over the boy's face to distract him.

"Mr. and Mrs. Rogers?" their little bubble pops at the voice and they look up to see their lawyer, waiting next to the entrance of a hall, most likely to lead them to the room to start the trial. Natasha can feel Steve go rigid and she takes in a deep breath. They can do this. Together, they can do anything.

They step forward as one and the lawyer motions for Natasha to take James. As Williams was on trial for his negligence towards Natasha and James, it could possibly make the jury ask for a harsher punishment if they see mother and child together. Miranda had already talked to them about it, so Natasha just nods and takes her baby from Steve, nuzzling her nose to his little head and inhaling his sweet, baby smell. Steve curls his arm around her and they continue their way down the hall towards the courtroom while the bodyguards remain behind to help security keep the people out.

As soon as they enter the room, everyone in attendance falls silent. Dave Williams stands alone in his table; every lawyer with a license to practice in New York had refused to take him as a client so he'd had no choice but represent himself. And it clearly showed because even a first-year law student knew that he had no chance of winning this trial. Hell, even a three-year-old knows!

The judge motions them forward, a woman with tan skin and kind eyes; her plate reads  _Judge Morgan_. She takes in the way Natasha clings to her son and how the boy looks at his parents with adoration. She doesn't know how this even made it to trial, it doesn't even have grounds to make it a case: a doctor left the room with his patient still bleeding so he could text his girlfriend. That's medical negligence, the doctor is faced with a lawsuit, possibly criminal charges and the withdrawal of his practice license.

But apparently, the doctor had used the Avengers' status against them, arguing that his charges were extremely high just because he was fighting against a public figure. It couldn't be farther from the truth, but someone had thought that it had ground and the case was brought forward.

Judge Morgan watches as the baby is passed over to a teenager sitting in the first row, right behind the table where the couple's lawyer is already waiting. The teen coos at the baby in whispers and sticks a pacifier in his mouth before he can make too much noise. The little boy settles against the older one and the teenager gives the couple a thumbs up when they turn to make sure their kid is ok.

"Objection, your Honor!" shouts Dave Williams once the Rogers family is seated. The jury stops talking and looks at him as one, some of them frowning. "That baby shouldn't be here, they're trying to sway the jury."

"Were you expecting us to leave him alone at home?" snaps Mr. Rogers, his eyes full of fire. The Avengers are all present, every last one of them. No one was staying behind in the Facility, meaning that there was no one to stay with the child. The judge brings down her maze down, demanding attention.

"Mr. Rogers, can you assure me that your child will be on his best behavior and that he won't interrupt?" the man nods.

"We will need to stop in an hour so he can eat, your Honor. Other than that, he won't be a problem." The judge nods and turns back to the accused.

"Objection denied, Mr. Williams."

"But–!"

"Do you want to add insubordination to your charges, Mr. Williams?"

"No, your Honor."

"Good, let's start then."

* * *

"Mr. Parker, how would you describe Natasha Rogers?" the teen chuckles and ignores the looks the jury is giving him.

"You're going to have to be more specific, Miss Flyman." The lawyer pauses and looks at the boy. This is not what he was supposed to say.

"Excuse me?"

"I mean that Natasha is many things! She can go from scary as hell to mama bear in two seconds flat. She's even managed to be both at once." Both the jury and the judge crack a smile and Natasha sends a look at Peter. He grins, unrepentant.

"Ok, then. How would you describe her as a mother?"

"Objection! Irrelevant!" protests Williams.

"I'm trying to paint the picture, your Honor. Put everything in character."

"Objection denied. Continue, Mr. Parker."

"Well, in one word: amazing. I mean, the nursery's been set up and prepared with everything a baby might need since she neared the end of the second trimester and the entire Facility's been baby-proofed for  _months_. And when I say 'entire' I mean it, even the training room has a baby gate in case he ever manages to get there and everything is strapped and protected so he can't hurt himself. You should see Steve's shield, it has a silicone band around the edge so if James gets hold of it he won't hurt himself. And that's just to protect him, y'know? She's amazing at taking care of Jamie, he's always smiling, never has to be in a dirty diaper for long and has a ton of toys. Although, that's more the rest of the Avengers than Nat." the jury laughs and Williams frowns again but refrains himself from protesting.

"Thanks, Peter. Now, how would you describe her when she found out that she'd missed the first four days of her son's life." The smile in the teens face falls and a solemn look takes its place. His brow is furrowed, his eyes are sad and his mouth is set in a downward curl as if he's trying not to clench his teeth.

"She was crushed." He practically growls and he keeps his eyes downwards, keeping them glued in his lap where he holds the little silver bracelet Natasha had given him for his birthday, the little spider charms twinkling.

_"We spiders have to stick together, don't we?"_

"She was so sad…" he murmurs, so low that only two of the closest members of the jury can hear. His eyes start to water as he remembers the way she'd looked. "She was so pale… she had bruises under her eyes." He sniffles and he can feel his lower lip tremble. "Dr. Banner told me that she would be ok, that she only needed to rest and that she would come out of the coma in a few days, but I… I thought she–"

"Objection! Circumstantial!"

"Oh, shut the fuck up!" shouts Peter suddenly, shocking everyone in the room. He's risen his face and everybody can see him now: the bloodshot eyes, the tear tracks on his cheeks and the way the muscles of his jaw jump under his skin. "You almost killed Natasha and you don't even care! And for what, huh? So you could text your girlfriend that you wanted spaghetti for dinner? You don't deserve to call yourself a doctor, you don't care for your patients! You just care about yourself! That woman is the most amazing, selfless person in the entire planet and you robbed her of something she's never getting back!" he starts trembling, his senses going into overdrive; the colors heighten, the noises get louder and he clutches his head, trying in vain to calm himself. And then…

"Pete," her voice is soft but firm and it's enough to snap him out of his head. He looks up, blinking his tears away and he sees her standing a little ways from the table. A whole body shudder quakes his body and she smiles softly at him, raising her arms towards him. "It's ok, Peter, it's ok. It's over now, come here." He sobs and practically face plants in his eagerness to reach her. He hugs her hard and hides his face into her neck, trembling and whimpering like a broken child. He hears James coo from behind.

"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry." He whispers and she shushes him, tucking him closer to her and combing her fingers through his hair. He can hear Miranda asking for a time out and the judge concedes, tapping her mace to her table. The room clears out and the Avengers are soon surrounding Peter, reassuring him that he hadn't messed up and that everything would be ok.

The young teen smiles at the support of his family. Because that's what they are, the only family he has left. Aunt May had been killed in a riot after the Snap and because her soul wasn't in the Soul Stone, the Avengers hadn't been able to bring her back. He'd been devastated when Tony told him but now he's accepted it and knew that she was with Uncle Ben, wherever they were. The pain was still there, it would always be there but Steve had shown him how to accept and move on. It hadn't been easy, but the Avengers had been with him every step of the way.

Judge Morgan observes from the door leading to her chambers, how the Avengers care for their youngest, vehement reassurance for the teen and kisses and cuddles for the baby. When he's passed over back to his mother, the child's demeanor brightens immensely and he settles against her, his thumb going to his mouth. Natasha is quick to take it out and angle the babe so her husband can offer the pacifier instead.

She knows that whatever Dave Williams has to say, in the end, it won't matter. The outcome of this trial had been decided even before it started.

* * *

"– guilty of his charges! His practice license will be rebuked and the jury proposes that he faces a year in prison without parole and five hundred and fifty hours of community service. The  _standard_  for his crimes."* The last sentence is made as the accused opens his mouth to protest yet again for the hundredth time. The man's demeanor changes completely and he starts sweating.

"I want protection!" he demands. Everyone in the room knows that it just takes one inmate that's an Avenger fan and he's dead.

"You refused that protection when you decided not to sign our deal, along with the NDAs that would protect your identity from the public." Answers Miranda and the man turns to her, a panicked look in his eyes. The attorney raises a brow. "You didn't even read it?"

"I–!" he's interrupted by the sound of the judge's mace hitting the table.

"That will be Mr. Williams sentence. Guards, take him." as the man loses his cool, the guards have to drag him out and cuff him outside. Steve is the first to react, he pulls Natasha up and into a hug, pressing his face into her hair and finally releasing a deep breath. Finally, it's over. He hears James coo from Peter's arms and Natasha twists in his embrace to receive their son.

It's over now, finally. The fact that the ex-doctor is behind bars won't give her the time she lost back, but at least he won't be able to hurt anyone else, no one else will have to go through what's she's gone through, at least not by him. She looks up at the jury, meeting each pair of eyes and mouths "Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, DONE! FINALLY, AFTER FOUR MONTHS, IT'S DONE! So sorry guys for keeping you waiting, but between school and my inspiration behaving like a fucking rollercoaster –I'm here! I'm gone! I'm here! I'm gone"– it's been kinda difficult to finish this.
> 
> *- I don't really know if this is actually true, but it's the only information I managed to find in this thing so I wasn't able to compare with other sources. If it's wrong please do tell so it's correct. And if the only thing is the parole thing don't worry, that's actually something I added XD.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so what do you think?
> 
> PS: This doesn't have anything to do with Back in Time –which I'll be updating as soon as possible, btw– so ignore any incongruences that you may find cause it's not the same universe. Also, this was supposed to be a One Shot that I was making to get out of my recent Author's Block, but it turned out to be super long –20 pages and it's not even half way done– so I'm just posting the first 6.5 pages to see what y'all think.
> 
> Kisses & TTYL, Lovers!


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